For the second time that night, Mike felt as if he had been possessed. “He was here, but he mumbled something about going to the tavern.” Mike lied.
His mother looked skeptical “I didn’t know that the tavern was open at this time.” She pondered aloud.
Mike was covered with a thin film of sweat. A voice in his head dementedly shrieked a parody of the game Clue: It was Mike with the tire iron in the garage!
Mike shook his violently, trying to dislodge the memory that had just materialized in his mind, the memory of Chuck’s stupid, surprised expression as the tire iron cracked his skull like an egg. The memory of Mike hitting Chuck’s lifeless body again and again, then finally dragging the beaten corpse into a dark corner in the garage. Mike looked at his mother. “I want to talk to you about Chuck.”
His mother sighed and took a seat at the kitchen table. “I know you don’t like Chuck,” She started “but I love him.”
Mike looked dejectedly at the floor. “You may love him,” Mike said “But we both know that he doesn’t love you.”
Mike hated the pain he saw in his mother’s eyes. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand. “Mike,” She said, unshed tears turning her eyes glassy “you know how your father is, leaving to go on his long “trips”, Chuck has always been there for me, when I was alone he was always around.”
Yeah, Mike thought, You both cheated on each other, but dad traded up, and you chose rubbish.
She caught Mike’s gaze. He was looking at the bruises that covered his mother’s arms and face. Many of the bruises were faded, but many were new, fresh. “I know that he hits you.” Mike said angrily “I hate the way that you let him hurt you, I hate that won’t kick his drunken ass out of your house.”
His mother stood up abruptly, knocking over the chair that she was seated on. “You’ll never understand!” She shouted, “You don’t know what he means to me!”
Mike’s head started to throb. “Mom, please calm down,” he told her “Chuck is bad news.”
His mother looked at Mike with hatred in her eyes. “You’re just like your damn father!” she screamed, “Nothing’s ever good enough for you or him, is it?” “You aren’t my son! You never liked Chuck! Do you even know how much he’s done for you? All the money he spent to clothe you and feed you, a boy who isn’t even his son, you ungrateful brat? And what did you do? You moved out to go live with your father the first chance you got! And now you’re back? You’re just to trying to get me to leave Chuck!”
Mike looked solemnly at the ground “so you love him,” Mike said softly.
“Of course I love him!” She shouted, “he was the only one there for me when I was alone. He is the only one who loves me!”
Mike clenched his fists. “It wasn’t always like that,” he said angrily. “My father loved you; I loved you, but you pushed us away, you chose that fat slob over us!”
“Get out of my house!” his mother screamed, “You have no place here! I disown you! I have no son!”
Mike started for the door, “you’re a fool.” He said to her. His eyes fell on the knife block that was sitting on the counter. He took a deep breath and walked out of the house into the pouring rain.
As Mike passed the garage, he inconspicuously looked in the window of the garage. In the corner, there was a large, dark shape lying on the floor. A dark bloodstain on the concrete told the story of what happened there. A manic giggle escaped Mike’s lips as he remembered crunching sound Chuck’s skull made the moment Mike hit him with the tire iron. Mike’s hands shook. I really did it, Mike thought, I killed him. Mike quickened his pace as he walked towards his truck.
His mother looked skeptical “I didn’t know that the tavern was open at this time.” She pondered aloud.
Mike was covered with a thin film of sweat. A voice in his head dementedly shrieked a parody of the game Clue: It was Mike with the tire iron in the garage!
Mike shook his violently, trying to dislodge the memory that had just materialized in his mind, the memory of Chuck’s stupid, surprised expression as the tire iron cracked his skull like an egg. The memory of Mike hitting Chuck’s lifeless body again and again, then finally dragging the beaten corpse into a dark corner in the garage. Mike looked at his mother. “I want to talk to you about Chuck.”
His mother sighed and took a seat at the kitchen table. “I know you don’t like Chuck,” She started “but I love him.”
Mike looked dejectedly at the floor. “You may love him,” Mike said “But we both know that he doesn’t love you.”
Mike hated the pain he saw in his mother’s eyes. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand. “Mike,” She said, unshed tears turning her eyes glassy “you know how your father is, leaving to go on his long “trips”, Chuck has always been there for me, when I was alone he was always around.”
Yeah, Mike thought, You both cheated on each other, but dad traded up, and you chose rubbish.
She caught Mike’s gaze. He was looking at the bruises that covered his mother’s arms and face. Many of the bruises were faded, but many were new, fresh. “I know that he hits you.” Mike said angrily “I hate the way that you let him hurt you, I hate that won’t kick his drunken ass out of your house.”
His mother stood up abruptly, knocking over the chair that she was seated on. “You’ll never understand!” She shouted, “You don’t know what he means to me!”
Mike’s head started to throb. “Mom, please calm down,” he told her “Chuck is bad news.”
His mother looked at Mike with hatred in her eyes. “You’re just like your damn father!” she screamed, “Nothing’s ever good enough for you or him, is it?” “You aren’t my son! You never liked Chuck! Do you even know how much he’s done for you? All the money he spent to clothe you and feed you, a boy who isn’t even his son, you ungrateful brat? And what did you do? You moved out to go live with your father the first chance you got! And now you’re back? You’re just to trying to get me to leave Chuck!”
Mike looked solemnly at the ground “so you love him,” Mike said softly.
“Of course I love him!” She shouted, “he was the only one there for me when I was alone. He is the only one who loves me!”
Mike clenched his fists. “It wasn’t always like that,” he said angrily. “My father loved you; I loved you, but you pushed us away, you chose that fat slob over us!”
“Get out of my house!” his mother screamed, “You have no place here! I disown you! I have no son!”
Mike started for the door, “you’re a fool.” He said to her. His eyes fell on the knife block that was sitting on the counter. He took a deep breath and walked out of the house into the pouring rain.
As Mike passed the garage, he inconspicuously looked in the window of the garage. In the corner, there was a large, dark shape lying on the floor. A dark bloodstain on the concrete told the story of what happened there. A manic giggle escaped Mike’s lips as he remembered crunching sound Chuck’s skull made the moment Mike hit him with the tire iron. Mike’s hands shook. I really did it, Mike thought, I killed him. Mike quickened his pace as he walked towards his truck.
Continue to Blackouts page three